


Stranded

by colisahotnorthernmess



Category: Find It Fix It Flog It RPF
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Bars and Pubs, Being stranded, Drinking, Driving, First Time, Fluff, Hotel Sex, Kissing, M/M, Snow, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 04:56:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17780984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colisahotnorthernmess/pseuds/colisahotnorthernmess
Summary: When the weather conditions in the Welsh mountains become so snowy and dangerous that it's hard to carry on, even for the Land Rover, a broken headlight eventually puts a stop to Henry and Simon's journey back from a barn in Wales.And - after finding a nearby pub where they can be fed and watered - they find themselves in the same bed together after a large meal and several pints. Well it was always bound to happen, wasn't it? A fluffy, romantic, longer story of mine.





	Stranded

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this is a work of fiction involving real people written by myself - it is a completely made-up fantasy and is in no way intended to cause offence.

The Land Rover ploughed through the compacted snow, leaving two straight lines in its wake, decorated with the patterns and battle-scars of its tyres, little brown, rusty ridges sullying the brightness of it all. You could see them in the rear-view mirror; it looked like no other vehicles had rode this track. But then again, there couldn't have been many people crazy enough to scale the dizzy heights of Snowdonia in winter when it had, indeed, been snow- _ing_. The range containing Britain's second highest mountain was not the cleverest place to be in these conditions and the crew had had the good sense to get out before the white stuff started coming down in clumps. It was times like this Henry was glad he didn't drive a Renault Clio.

However, it had probably stopped snowing about an hour ago - roughly around the same time that Simon had nodded off, unable to fend off the potency of the car's heater - which was turned up to full blast - and its almost magical ability to have _anyone_ fall asleep at will. And Si simply couldn't fight it any longer. He squirmed, fidgeted in his slumber, and Henry was now fighting a force as equally hard - fighting, that was, against the urge to grab Si and pull him into his arms. But, oh dear - he was losing that battle. For, in Henry's eyes, Simon was just too adorable for words right now, eyes closed and dreaming of _upcycles_. Henry nearly gave his face a hard slap to stop himself from thinking it.

"Jesus, Henry," he whispered, trying to focus on the road; it was tough telling the difference between snow and sheep in this weather, and Wales had plenty of both.

And, as if he hadn't enough trouble keeping those thoughts at bay, a bump in the road was soon to throw the pair of them out of their seats by a few inches and into the air - and when they would come back down again, rather than being apart, they were now together - leaving Si lovingly resting on his co-host's shoulder.

A cattle grid soon marked the end of Simon's snooze. The thick metal ridges vibrated beneath the car's wheels, gradually shaking Simon awake. Momentarily stunned and confused as he sat up, he blinked a couple of times and looked at Henry a little nonplussed before realising where he was.

"M'sorry, mate," he mumbled, "Was I leaning on you?" He tried to sit up straight, untangling the mess of seatbelt he'd managed to wrap around himself.

"It's alright, Si," Cole grinned back at him. "Honestly, it's the only time I get any peace and quiet." He laughed. But, if truth be told, it was more than alright. Simon could lean on him any time he wanted. He was bloody smitten. " _Stop it,_ " he told himself. They were miles away from where they needed to be; it was getting late and the weather wasn't getting any better. It pained him to say it, but even the Landy - the old girl - was struggling in this terrain. And all he could think about was _Simon_.

"Funny," came the grouchy, sleep-deprived response.

"Somebody's grumpy," Henry chided. "I'm only kidding, anyway - you numpty," he shook his head and turned to O'Brien, with a smile. "You're actually a little angel when you're sleeping," he reached over and stroked his face quickly, playfully, and Si pulled away, "You're so cute."

"I am cute," he said, smugly.

"Beautiful little eyelashes you've got," Henry murmured, so much quieter than before, not looking at the other man but staring straight at the road.

The more he spoke, the more Si couldn't help but wonder if he was _genuinely_ being serious. _Had_ he been watching him sleep? He'd had an _inkling_ regarding Cole's feelings for him for some time, but there was just something about tonight that brought it _home_ \- the quietness, the closeness - physically too, where he had been lying upon his warm, comfortable shoulder - and the way the dim light from only the half-turned map-light, and the smattering of street lamps as they descended deeper into the countryside, highlighted how handsome Henry's features actually were.

"Have I?" he teased.

"Mmm," came the reply, with Henry trying so desperately hard to be non-committal.

Simon stuck his tongue out at the first opportunity when the older man looked back at him. Henry smiled and narrowed his eyes. Si was playing with his heart and that wasn't so difficult, considering how he was feeling about him. And, considering all of this, the ex-Brookside actor's next words were going to be a curveball which would seriously take some avoiding. Henry wasn't even quite sure he'd heard him _right_.

"Do you _fancy_ me?" he'd asked.

Resisting the urge to swallow his chewing gum, or scream, or hit the brakes when they were going too quickly in a 30mph limit zone and risk hurling them through the windscreen, Henry searched for any kind of response which wouldn't immediately come across as _yes_. It came out as a bashful huff. And a nervous follow up: "Si... Mate... You're making me blush," he then added.

He felt a set of fingers stray onto the material of his jeans, dancing, brushing over his thigh - or at least he _thought_ he could feel it - it was so dark, he couldn't see. "Now you're really making me blush," he blurted, internally, _silently_. Besides making him blush, he was making him something _else_ entirely. If those fingers made their way any further up his thigh, they'd find out what.

So dazzled,  _ironically_ \- as it was practically pitch black - by what was going on - it took Cole _some_ time to realise why it actually was so dark. Besides - that was - for the fact that they were in the arse-end of _nowhere_ and it was well beyond tea-time on _this_ \- a dreary winter's evening. _One of his front headlamps was out._

He clicked on his indicator to signal that he would be pulling into the next lay-by and, in doing so, felt the hand above his leg suddenly still and dart away from him. Perhaps he'd  _imagined_ it?

"Wu--What's happening?" Si asked him, a slight tremble to his voice. The nervousness was telling; perhaps Henry _hadn't_ imagined it, after all.

"One of my headlights," he tutted, irritated, "I think it's out."

"Ohh," he heard Simon breathe out slowly through his nose, a possible sigh of relief - it wasn't like Simon to be shy in _anything_ that he did - well, at least in Henry's opinion - but, should all of this _not_ be a figment of Cole's imagination, it was almost as if Si seemed fearful of how Henry would react to having his hand covering his knee. And, if it was a gesture of friendship and nothing more, why would he now be moving with such trepidation?

He dared to ask, "Would you go out and have a look at it for me, Simon?"

"You must be joking, mate - it's like the fucking Arctic Circle out there, Henry."

Why was it that the more angry a Liverpudlian would become, the more high-pitched and _Scouse_ he would become? Henry mulled over this, realising how much he loved Si's accent - how much he loved his little quirks and absolutely everything about him. His heart was pounding; there was nothing now that could stop him from taking the plunge. He was going for it. " _Please_. I--I'll uh--" he started to stammer, "warm you up when you get back in, Simon." He couldn't believe he'd made such a remark, but there the idea was now, hanging low, tangible in the atmosphere as it waited to be picked off by Si. How he prayed he would bob up from the icy water like a fish taking the bait.

"Why don't you..." inching ever closer to his fellow presenter, and said bait, Simon moved forward, "Warm me up _first_." Now, wasn't _that_ a temptation? The man in the passenger seat reached over to increase the intensity of the map light, illuminating the cab as much as he could. It certainly wasn't the only intensity he had increased in this small space.

Henry laughed, uneasily, breaking the tension by tapping Si lightly on the nose. "Later."

"Yeah," Simon rolled his eyes. "I know your 'laters' - you still owe me a tenner from about three months ago, Henry Cole!"

"I'll pay it back with interest," Henry told him, in a hoarse, hushed whisper. "But first thing's first... _headlight_ ," he commanded, changing his voice to an altogether different tone, pressing the release button to unlock all of the Land Rover doors.

"Utter git," Si grunted, unclipping himself and sliding out of the car.

Without a shadow of a doubt, the headlamp was busted - usually, a hard thump on the glass outer was all that was required - but, alas, this time, the classic trick did not work. Henry joined Simon out in the snow. "We can't drive like this - not out here when it's so dark - not in these conditions. It's really dangerous - who knows _what_ we could end up hitting," he grumbled, looking at the broken part and wishing he'd brought Guy along because he probably would have had it fixed it no time. "What _great_ timing," he thought, sarcastically - but, then again, just maybe the timing of this incident could be to his benefit after all. They were, by some good fortune, within walking distance of a lovely-looking country inn, which would undoubtedly serve food - he was _famished_.

"Pub?" Si ventured.

"Couldn't have made a better suggestion myself," Henry agreed as he turned to the face the bright lights in the near distance. " _Hey_ \- come on then, son," he invited Simon to join him as he cautiously began to trudge down the hill, "Let's get a wriggle on."

 

***

 

They awoke in bed, beside one another, at around a quarter to four - a mass of tangled, exhausted limbs, intertwined - the gusting wind having caused a door to slam and rouse them both from their slumber. The very minute their weary bodies had hit the squishy, comfortable mattress, they had been out for the count. A large pub meal and several pints of bitter had been the undoing of them. The undoing of jeans, on the other hand, had been entirely their _own_ doing. But, as everything unfortunately _is_ when you reach a certain age, every scenario is tinged with tiredness - they had undressed, hungrily kissed like teenagers, before falling asleep all-too quickly on the bed.

"What time is it?" Simon muttered, scrambling for his phone at the side of the bed. He pressed the keypad and the screen lit up, filling his half of the room with blue light. Seeing now the edges of the furniture in the room, he realised he wasn't at home, in his _own_ bed - and the memories of where he _was_ were slowly coming back to him. He sank back into the sheets, very purposefully - very calmly - before plucking up the courage to look beside of him. It was a beautiful, long-haired blonde stunner lying there, but it wasn't a woman - it was _Henry_. "Fuck," he whispered into the still night air, "Henry... um, mate... did we?"

"No," Henry replied, bluntly. His head was flat to the pillow and his arms wrapped around the back of him, as he thoughtfully threaded fingers through his own mop of hair - an awkward position. He dropped his arms down so that he could look at Si.

"How did--?" the younger man looked down at his state of undress.

"You couldn't wait to get your clothes off. What can I _say_? I seem to have that effect on people."

Simon snorted, glancing to his left, meeting with Henry's mischievous grin. Now, with his eyes skyward, he reached down tentatively with his left hand, grazing fingernails slowly over his co-presenter's bare thigh, aching for a reaction - for a _clue_ as to where this was heading.

"That feels nice," he hummed. "It felt nice last night when you were doing it in the car," came the revelation at last, an admission that Henry _hadn't_ been so blind to Simon's affections.

"I... erm..." Si stuttered, "I don't know why I did that. Something came over me."

"It doesn't matter now," Henry hissed, his hand roaming Simon's chest, enjoying the feel of his friend's warm, fur-covered torso, and particularly enjoying the way that he made O'Brien lurch forwards gently when he tickled his tummy, digits wandering from the softness of flesh to the completely _different_ feel of cotton boxer shorts and a hardening bulge. The younger man gasped and Cole continued - continued to make him _gasp_ with his _words_. "You asked me what time it was?" his voice rumbled. "The answer is: _plenty_ of time left for a little fun, Si," he said, breathing into his ear.

But now, it was Henry's turn to be caught off guard - Simon sprang out of the sheets and half-rolled on top of him - now caressing _his_ chest, now feeling _his_ excitement, tugging at _his_ underwear - gingham-patterned, no less. And, cupping his bearded jaw, he reached down and began to kiss him, desperately and fierce.

"You're a good kisser," he uttered, breathless, his lips wet and glistening in the darkness. "I'm not sure I would ever have guessed, Henry," he smirked.

"We bloody kissed _last night!_ We were at it for a good ten minutes before we both conked out on the bed," the Shed and Buried presenter began to laugh.

"Did we...? Did we _really_?"

"Cor, you can't remember anything, can you?" Henry said, with a little smile.

"I _do_ remember you saying you were going to sleep on the sofa tonight," Simon pointed at him, accusingly.

"And I remember _you_ talking me out of it!"

 

***

 

"There's only one room left upstairs, I'm afraid," the female receptionist told them, with a heavy Welsh twang to her words, "But it does have a so-fa."

"That's perfect," Henry grinned, clutching at the keys on the desk. The large brass numbered keyring rattled against the keys as he pawed at the item, quite clumsily, quite  _drunkenly_. "I can always sleep on the sofa - it's fine - I've been used to far worse in my younger days," he beamed.

"Sleep with me if you want," Si burbled, trying to stand and eventually failing, propping himself up on the counter. "I know you want to, Henry."

"Uh.. haha," Henry laughed, nervously. "Oh, don't mind my friend - he's very drunk," he warned her, hitting Si quite firmly in the ribs. "He's become a little too well acquainted with _John Smith_ tonight." He looped O'Brien's arm around his neck and tried to help him walk upstairs in a straight line, "Come on, Simon - let's be getting you to bed."

"Yes, Henry!" he shouted, rather loudly - rather loud- _er_ than Cole would have liked - as he staggered up the steps, "We're going to get into bed! Are we going to get into bed _together_?"

"Simon!" Henry scolded him, "For god's sake, be quiet."

"Shhhhhhh," Si held a finger to his lips and giggled, quietly adding, "We're going to get into bed together, aren't we...?"

There was a glare which softened as they became nearer to the door of the room and - as Henry jangled his keys, apprehensively, fumbling as he tried to put the small brass instrument into the lock - he dropped the set of keys onto the carpet after managing to unlock it. Reaching down to pick them up and standing once again, he found Simon pushing him back into the door, prising it open. "I won't take 'no' for an answer," Si demanded, kissing Henry passionately and thrusting him forcefully into the room. As _if_ Henry would _ever_ have refused.

"Alright, then... _Yes_ \- if you're _lucky_..." knowing that he was _just_ as bloody lucky. This would be the _second_ time he'd be _lucky_ enough to lie beside a sleeping Simon tonight - too adorable for words, eyes closed and dreaming of...  _upcycles -_ just as he was _earlier_ , snoring away in the Land Rover.


End file.
